


Let me play

by RocioWrites



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-10 21:19:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2040558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RocioWrites/pseuds/RocioWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Character death and suicidal thoughts/behavior TW] AU where Reid becomes an UnSub.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let me play

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics are from Trapt’s Victim
> 
> Character death and suicidal thoughts/behavior TW
> 
> Hotch/Reid onsided, kind of. And mentions of Haley/Hotch.

Written for the [hxr_promptmeme](http://hxr-promptmeme.livejournal.com/).

Prompt: He never noticed how tempting the genius could be until he became the very thing he hunted. Hotch being gradually seduced by a snapped Reid who is killing in Hotch’s name to seduce/lure him. (Preferably pre-divorce).

*

_**I wonder why the less I get the more I give** _

Hotch notices immediately. Something’s changed, he’s not sure what though. But something has changed about Reid, about the way he smiles, his eyes have a different glow. He walks kind of differently too. Hotch can’t describe exactly how Reid is changed or how he notices but he does.

The genius is not more relaxed but it feels like he’s more at ease with himself. He’s not happier but it looks like he smiles more frequently, even when Hotch isn’t sure that those smiles are honest or related to happiness at all.

“Sorry, got something to do.” Hotch hears him one afternoon, refusing Morgan’s invitation to go out and have some drinks. He wants to ask, wants to know. Is there some secret Reid’s keeping from them? (From him mostly, thank you very much). And then there’s that smile, lips curving in all the wrong ways if you ask Hotch.

But of course, the unit chief doesn’t say anything. It’s his job to protect his team, his family and calling Reid out on something he has no proof of isn’t a good idea. Yet, he wants so bad to trap the younger man in his office and make him talk.

He ignores this urge and finishes his paper work, ready to go home and nurse some scotch. He wants to go home and bury himself in bed, to stop thinking about his young colleague and what this all means.

Morgan is long gone and he can see light in JJ’s office. He’s about to go there to say goodnight when he watches Reid stuffing some papers into his messenger bag and goes for the elevator. There’s this irrational urge again, he wants to grab his arm and look him right in the eyes and get to know every little secret Reid may have, he wants to discover it all. It’s madness, he knows. And in the end he takes long strides to catch up with the genius before the elevator door closes.

Reid smiles politely at him and right there is the young man he saw that first day, looking shy and nervous and glorious.

“Doing something special tonight?” Hotch asks without being able to stop himself. “It’s friday.” He adds as a way to point how much sense the question makes.

“No, not really. And you?”

“Just spending time with Jack. Don’t think Haley has any plans, she likes me to spend time at home.” He smiles fondly thinking about his son and his lovely wife. And the way his family looks perfect for some american TV show.

“That’s nice.” It's the answer he gets, in a low voice, lips in a thin and awful line making him look older and bitter.

Reid seems more distant and suddenly the smile is back but it’s not honest, that much Hotch can tell. It’s not the smile he has learned to love and sure as hell Reid isn’t the same either. It scares him because he can’t figure out what has changed, how things are different. Why are they different?

"Reid…" (and no, this can’t be real) "Spencer."

It’s the smile, the eyes, the way he stands and he’s still the young man Gideon praised. And at the same time, he isn’t.

"What is it, Hotch?"

The doors open with a soft ‘bing’ and Reid looks directly at him, eyes large and open, lying at him and hiding something so dark. Hotch knows darkness, he knows what it is to control it so he absolutely knows when darkness has taken control over someone.

"Have dinner with me." He offers, heart beating so fast. It hurts and every breath stabs him in the lungs.

"I can’t. Your wife’s waiting for you."

And Reid walks away. Hotch standing in the middle of the elevator, watching the doors close again, watching Reid’s back, his hands twitching.

There’s no Dr. Spencer Reid anymore. Just another UnSub.

_**I want your eyes on me** _

It’s personal, intimate and different. Hotch feels the little hairs on his neck rise. It’s creepy and dangerous. Yet, he keeps re-reading the letters, hearing the phone calls again and again, and profiles him with pleasure. It’s not how it’s supposed to be, he knows; and still he can’t deny what happens inside of him. It’s repulsion and attraction all in once and at the same time.

He’s the target and sometimes he wonders if Reid would ever go after him. It’s dark and Reid has snapped, has finally lost it. Hotch saw it coming, saw the change in Reid even if he wasn’t sure what it was. It’s hard to keep tracks now, and it’s even harder to read his name written with blood on walls.

“You can’t clean the walls now.” Reid had told him one night in a risky phone call to his personal cell phone number while he was still at the office.

“I don’t clean walls.” He casually answered, having Garcia doing the tracking job.

Morgan was out of himself, sick worried and mortally angry at himself for not seeing the signs. JJ didn’t have other cases for them, still doesn’t have them. Gideon was a silent mess, as always; looking for absolution. And he? He was just listening the breathing on the other side of the line.

“You don’t usually do it. But Elle’s blood was on that wall, so…” The sharp intake of breath must have given him away because Reid laughed a bit, a dry and weird laugh that had him going incoherent. His throat was burning and he felt the sting in his eyes, he wanted to throw up. “It was really nice of you Aaron.” And they were calling each other by their names now? “Such a pity your guilt - and Gideon’s - didn’t do anything useful for her, right?”

“I…” He couldn’t say anything else.

Reid hung up.

Garcia didn’t get a location.

And they’re playing this sick game, trying to catch an ex-profiler and evil genius, a real evil genius now. It’s madness. Again.

There are gifts too. Reid leaves him gifts. Roses and chocolates. One time a nicely done card, handwritten. “Don’t ever think those I kill mean too much for me. I do what I have to, what I need to. It’s how it’s supposed to be and someday we’ll all understand. Say hi to Haley from me. -Spencer.” And the little drop of dry blood guided them to another missing report and another victim.

It’s an incomplete profile, they know it. Hell, Reid knows it. But they work on it anyway. He kills women and men, from 27 to 48. No clear victimology. It’s disconcerting. He mostly chokes them but sometimes he stabs them or shoots them. He plays innocent, shy and clumsy young guy; he lures them in; he does all this with such efficiency. It’s unbelievable. He stalks them probably.

He eludes him and the rest of the FBI. But, somehow, he’s never too far away to leave these gifts in Hotch’s front door.

_**Do I wanna be? Well, you never asked me** _

Haley’s eyes go wide and she stops breathing for a moment. Her hand trembles softly and she swallows hard against the lump in her throat.

“Yes, it’s me. I’m here.” She says to whoever she speaks to. Hotch is suddenly very aware of his surroundings, where Jack is, which doors are closed, which windows are not. He palms his ankle holster before standing up, messing Jack’s hair and winking at him. The kid doesn’t even pay attention, his excited eyes are on the cartoon playing on the TV.

“Haley.” He mouths and she nods.

‘It’s Dr. Reid’ he reads in her lips. Hotch makes a gesture with his hand, ‘give me the phone’. She shakes her head this time. He fucking talks to her for a few minutes, all the while Hotch checks if there’s someone outside peeking through the windows. Finally, she gives him the phone, she has watery eyes and a ragged breath.

“Call Garcia.” He instructs her in a whisper and then talks to the phone. “What did you tell her?”

“We were talking about the weather. And Jack’s drawings.” Reid giggles. “Ah I may have mentioned Joy.”

The name clicks in Hotch’s mind. He has gone over those reports too many times as to not remember the seventeen victims so far. Joy Shepard, 32, blonde, his boyfriend was a successful businessman who wasn’t much at home. Victim number eight. She had instantly made him think of his wife.

“Spencer.” He hisses.

“Don’t be like that. She was such a sweetheart.” Hotch doesn’t know if he means Joy or Haley. There’s a pause and he hears some rustling sound. In the other room he knows Haley is calling his team. “I still like you more.” Reid adds.

“Why did you call?”

“Are we gonna play 20 questions? ‘Cause you’re not asking anything that matters.”

Hotch literally stops thinking, this is some messed up nightmare and once he wakes up he’ll go to the office and Reid will be there, drinking coffee and being the good and nerdy guy he always was. Except it isn’t a dream, this is real life, this is happening. And he’s talking to a serial killer, one who used to be an FBI agent, one who used to be his friend.

“Make a question that matters.” Reid insists.

“We’re going to catch you.” He says, lost at words, his world spiralling in ways he can’t manage to comprehend.

“Not a question.” He sing-songs. “Try again.” Hotch hears soft music in the background.

“What are you listening?”

“You, talking.” The answer is honest and Hotch’s body shivers. That’s not good, he knows. “Next.”

Hotch thinks harder this time, paying attention to the background music and the way Reid follows the rhythm, humming now and then.

“What can I…?” He stops himself for a moment as the song changes.

“Yes?”

“What kind of question matters?”

“Are you and Haley happy?”

“What?”

“Are you and Haley happy?” He nods foolishly, somewhere in the back of his mind he thinks Reid can’t see him. “That’s, for example, a question that matters. Now you.”

“Are you?” He says immediately. He can imagine Reid’s mouth forming a soundless O before snapping shut again, and that smile. That smile that’s not his but actually it is.

“Am I happy, you ask?” Again, Hotch nods. “No, not particularly. Why? Do you think killing and chasing after you guys make me happy?”

Haley appears at the other side of the open door, she’s holding Jack close and the child looks almost asleep. She points upstair and twists her hand, showing how she’s gonna lock the door. Hotch nods with conviction and wishes that he could drop everything and make it alright again, going back in time if necessary. It’s all so painful and unreal.

“You chase after us?” He goes after Haley, watching her climb the stairs; and then he sits on the couch, closing his eyes and wondering how much time do they have until the team shows up.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Okay.” He focuses in the ‘you guys’ part. “So… you go calling everyone? Giving these… gifts to everyone on the team?”

“Jealous?”

A part of his brain screams YES but the rational part, the one he always tries to listen to asks him to take slow and careful steps. Don’t bring the beast on you.

“A little bit.” Hotch confesses and prays for it to sound normal.

“I only call you. I only leave gifts for you Aaron. There is no one else. You should know.”

“Spencer…” Hotch hears the sirens, sees the flash of colors behind the curtains; his team is here. But he doesn’t feel safer.

“You should know. You made me this way, Aaron.” And he hangs up.

Morgan burst through the door, gun pointing at him instinctively, Hotch just watches how Gideon comes in behind Morgan and everything is blurry and unbelievable.

“I made you this way…?” He whispers to himself. Gideon hears though, and doesn’t say anything about it. There’s really nothing about it that’ll make sense.

_**I’m right here so come and get me** _

Hotch is officially Reid’s target now. Morgan is upset and Gideon’s hurt because for once he’s not the center of attention. It scares him and at the same time it’s thrilling. It’s so fucking wrong.

“You could have it all.” says the next postal, it has a nice and reddish horizont painted on the other side. What ‘all’ Reid means, no one is sure. Maybe Hotch could have had it all, yes. But it was too late since the day he was born.

It was too late for Reid too.

But for some reason, it’s a relief. Knowing Reid is still near him. Knowing that they still have this special bond. And since that last call, Hotch has been dreading and hoping to hear his voice again.

There are nights when he won’t sleep at all, waiting for something to happen. Other nights, he just gives himself to a warm shower and memories. Haley seems more distant and worried, which is only logical since her husband is the target of a serial killer. And damn if both aren’t worried about Jack. Hotch knows Reid won’t hurt his son but he doesn’t want to test that theory either, just in case.

He hears the whispers everyday at the office. About how a good agent like Dr. Spencer Reid finally snapped and lost all contact with reality. He knows the higher-ups are looking for some head to hang and Strauss won’t be blamed for this, oh Hotch is sure of that. He will take the blame, the responsibility for it all, not need to think otherwise. Reid already told him this was his fault, so there’s no need to look further.

How it is Hotch’s fault, that still escapes him. Maybe it was that time he kicked him and said all those awful things. Or maybe was that same case but much sooner, when they were chest to back on that firing range and he was breathing on Reid’s ear, saying how he should shoot, all the time smiling invitingly to the young man and his frustrating adorableness. Maybe he seduced the young genius and never knew it? Maybe.

He created a monster just by standing at his side showing him something he couldn’t have.

And Hotch hates himself for that.

For the first time he wants to have a way to contact Reid, to talk to him freely. To mend this thing. How, he just wants to know how.

The next postcard comes as if Reid would have read his mind. “Let’s meet Aaron. -Spencer.”

_**I wanna be your new victim** _

The night is clear and the stars are beautifully painted on the sky; the moon is so big that Hotch worries people will go out of their way to watch it here. That’s not smart considering all the FBI agents looking around, undercover, trying to find Reid.

Gideon gave the order, no one can shoot unless completely necessary. Morgan was (is) uncomfortable about it all.

Seeing Reid for the first time in months has his heart beating too fast. Flashes of his smiles and his voice and all those little quirks he has, pass through his mind. Why him?, Hotch can’t stop asking himself this; no answers are there for him.

“Subject approaching.” He hears on his ear, Morgan refusing to say Reid or UnSub. It’s quite sad to be honest.

The lean figure sits beside him, there’s a red rose in his hand and that’s definitely the most awkward thing a serial killer has ever given to him. On the other side, we’re talking about his Reid here, so that rose could be the only sign he’ll get about this twisted love they share.

They spend a few seconds in silence, no one wants to break the spell it seems. He can hear some hushed conversation at the end of his earpiece but it’s too quiet to make out the words or the meaning. Hotch doesn’t mind, it’s like a date they won’t ever have.

“For you.” Reid finally says and gives him the rose.

“Thank you.” He takes it, and out of instinct smells it. Reid smiles at him and it’s like going back in time. Except it’s not and he has to make sure Reid gets captured.

They fall into silence again. And it’s almost comfortable if not for the feeling that soon everything’s going to hell.

“Thank you for meeting me here. It’s a really nice view, don’t you think?”

“Yes. The moon looks amazing from here.” And he means it. A little voice in his head wonders if this was the place where Reid would have liked to go on a first date with him.

And why Hotch is so sure of this love is still strange but it’s true, he can  _feel_ it.

Reid slowly nods like he’s contemplating beyond the moon and the space, like he knows some deep secret the world isn’t supposed to know. He seems like he’s debating with himself about telling Hotch this secret.

“Do you carry your gun, Aaron?”

The shiver he gets when he hears and sees those lips moving and forming his name is not appropriate. But fuck appropriate right now.

“Lie to him.” Gideon whispers to him.

“Yes, the one in my ankle holster.” He confesses instead. Gideon hisses in reprobation and Morgan holds his curse and says something else.

“Oh okay, that sounds fair.” Reid nods again, pensively. It’s weird having this peace while talking to him considering all the horror and all the restless nights they had because of the genius.

“Do you?” Hotch asks back. Like this isn’t some life threatening situation at all, sitting with the guy who killed people because  _Hotch made him that way_.

“Yes.” And that’s all. He doesn’t say where he has it or what type of gun it is. That’s all he’s going to get, Hotch knows. “I guess it doesn’t really matter.” He adds but doesn’t explain further.

There’s this sadness and tiredness on his demeanor, in the way his voice is barely above a whisper. It squeezes Hotch’s heart to no avail.

“Why? Why it doesn’t matter?” And Hotch gets that awfully broken smile again. “Spencer,” He tries. “talk to me.”

Gideon and Morgan keep talking in his ear like they’re the voices of his conscience; which they’re definitely not.

“I need you to promise me something before I talk.”

“Whatever you want.” He’s so eager that he knows there will be consequences for this and more awkward conversations about why Reid seems so obsessed with him. But for now he doesn’t care.

“Don’t try to convince me like any other UnSub, please.”

Hotch finds himself nodding and dreading the next few hours. The feeling that things will go to hell never goes away, really.

“I promise.” He basically squeaks and he can tell his eyes are watering. It’s ridiculous.

“I’ve been killing all the people you think I killed. When I wasn’t sure if you would notice the murder or link it to me I sent you a postcard or a letter with some clue in it.” Morgan swallows against the lump in his throat and it’s fuckig loud in the silence of the night. Okay, Hotch can handle himself like the good agent he is, he just needs to regain control of his own body and stop looking like a kicked puppy. “It’s okay.” Reid reassures him. Reid! He reassures him! The man that’s confessing murdering people.  _For him_. Things are so fucked up he can’t even start to think properly. “Somehow I always knew this was going to happen, I just couldn’t stop myself.”

“Spencer…” And Hotch has his doubts about who said the name, if Morgan or him. Or maybe both.

“I did enjoy all the time I’ve spent with you guys, all of you. I’ll miss Morgan and Garcia. A lot. I already do. But this is the side I’m taking right now, sorry.”

“Fuck.” And Morgan’s voice sounds broken too.

“And this is it. The end.” Reid just smiles sadly and the inexplicable rage he saw that day after Reid started to kill, it was gone now. There’s only resignation. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry it took me so long to come back to my senses. It was so… pleasurable to kill. To let it all out and finally be able to feel. Something. Anything.”

“This won’t end well, move, move!” Gideon orders. This definitely sounds like a goodbye to Hotch, suicidal was something he wasn’t expecting.

“They’re coming for me, aren’t they?” And when did Reid become such a good mind reader? Hotch nods. “I’d rather end everything here than go to jail.”

The gun appears suddenly and the steps of other agents are too close. The scene happens too quickly and at the same time it seems he’s living in slow motion. The shouts of “FBI” are really far away if you ask Hotch, but the movements of people and the lights and just everything in general makes him realize they’re not alone there anymore.

Everyone has a gun out now. That’s odd, because he doesn’t; he’s just looking into hazel and tired eyes, wicked eyes, they haven’t lost that evil touch unfortunately.

“Drop the weapon, Reid. We don’t want to hurt you.” How Morgan is so composed is a mystery.

“No. I’m the one who wants to hurt myself.” He corrects. And wow, that’s a low blow, Hotch thinks.

After this night he’s damaged forever.

“Don’t do it kid. Please.”

And now Reid’s pointing at him with his gun. That’s odd too.

“DON’T!” Morgan screaming like that is such a weird thing to hear. Hotch still feels like he’s trapped in some sort of nightmare.

“I’d rather have you shooting me Aaron, but I guess that’s not something that’ll happen.” Reid still is calm and his voice is as normal as if he’s talking about the weather. But the madness comes to his eyes and lips, Hotch can tell.

“I won’t kill you, Spencer.” It's all he can say, really.

“That’s such a pity. I’ve always wanted to be your victim.”

Reid’s fingers are moving and pressing the trigger. Oh hell, he’s going to die. Hotch hears so many guns firing he can’t tell where he got shot. There’s blood all over Reid’s shirt and the young man is smirking. This  _must be_  a nightmare.

“Hotch, you okay? Reid, man!”

“Where’s the ambulance?! Need one now, NOW!”

Reid’s falling to the ground and the moonlight makes that smile even more scary. Hotch doesn’t feel anything except for this hopelessness and void in his chest. It’s not fair, any of this.

“Thank you.” Reid mouths. Sirens, an ambulance surely, sound really close and all those noises that were so far away come to life all of a sudden and nothing is in slow motion anymore. Hotch shakes his head, squeezing the red rose still in his hand. “Thank you for letting me play all this time…”

Aaron wishes those weren’t the last words he’s ever going to hear from Spencer.


End file.
